I didn't sign up for this - teaching during a pandemic

It has taken me a few weeks years to figure out exactly where I wanted to go with this post. I have been journaling and writing a lot, hoping that it will somehow help unscramble the millions of thoughts I have daily about our current situation. And the truth is, I'm still a little unsure.

I think it is safe to say that no one signed up for this. Not the nurses who are front-line, making sure that everyone is okay, not the police officers who were forced to hand out tickets for gatherings of more than 15 people, not the grocery store workers making minimum wage to ensure that everyone else is getting what they need and honestly, everyone else. But for teachers, things are strange. To say the least.

We are now almost two years into this pandemic 'thing', and things in the field of education seem to be getting more and more difficult. Maybe, we're to blame. We finished the school year last year with a 'light at the end of the tunnel' outlook. September would be brighter. It would be better. We would be going back towards some resemblance of normal... yet, here we are. More exhausted (and confused) than ever before.

We're still in a state of uncertainty, and it doesn't look like it will be easing up anytime soon. Tensions are rising as we introduce mandatory vaccinations - drawing a (very controversial) line in the sand between colleagues, friends, family. Expectations and demands are higher as we work towards bridging the gaps in the learning that the pandemic has caused.. all while we're still living the day-to-day implications of higher absence rates and a government system that isn't adequately funding what they are asking us to do.

Most of us got into teaching because we love teaching. We love the interactions, the hugs, the 'ah-ha' moments when a multiplication finally clicks in the mind of a fourth grader. But lately, it has been hard to appreciate those moments, between the piles and piles of added work. 

An 'invisible' disease.

It's always interesting to think back on all of the ways my auto-immune disease has affected my life. Some days, it feels like yesterday that I was being admitted to the Alberta Children's Hospital, for the first time, with no idea what was wrong with me. While other times, it feels like a different lifetime. 

The truth is, I often reflect upon those times on Sunday nights. You see, Sunday night is when I take my injection of Humira - also known as Adalimumab, or to me and my family: the miracle drug that got me back to this somewhat normal lifestyle. 

Don't get me wrong, my disease is very much real, and it still takes it's toll on me on the daily. With joint pain, weird boughs fatigue/insomnia and other unexplainable symptoms, it becomes exhausting... But it's also pretty incredible to realize how far I've come in my battle through Behcets Disease/Rheumatoid Arthritis (or whatever the doctors are calling it this year). Let me explain. 

At 15 years old, I had no idea the pain, both emotional and physical, I would go through over the next decade. Not only did I have the normal challenges of my teenage girl years, I had to navigate the woes of high school while juggling ever-changing medications, dozens of monthly doctor's appointments and the emotional trauma my disease would have on my life.

I didn't realize that by my grade 12 year, I would need a handicap parking pass for my high school, because my arthritis had gotten so bad I could barely walk. I didn't know that I would have recurring ulcers in my mouth and esophagus or multiple flares of eye inflammation that would leave even the best doctor's scrambling for new treatments. I didn't know that I would lose most of my 'friends' because the reality of having a friend who looks different, acts different or is just too sick to make it to school was too much for any teenager to deal with.  

Looking back, it's crazy to think of the joy that a 20-something year old Allie felt the first time I ran up the stairs without worrying about my knees giving out. Or thinking back to the first specialist appointment where they were sure they had finally gotten my meds 'figured out'. If you would have asked me where I would be now ten years ago, this would not have been the answer. I honestly never thought I would lead a 'normal' life, but here I am, living so much more than that. 

 All in all, things have slowed down significantly over the years. And to be honest, I'll take the mini-flares and once-or-twice-a-year emergency room visits over what it was any day. 

#sundaythoughts

MY advice to first, second and third year teachers

Dear First/Second/Third year teacher,

Now that I am finishing up my third year of teaching, I would consider myself a little bit of an expert. An expert teacher? Oh no no no no no. I have become an expert in: countless questions for my admin, intermittent break downs and multi-tasking while trying to write report cards. I also have intermediate skills in getting through teacher evaluations and creating field trip forms with (many) errors. I have some knowledge in setting up a classroom, and then taking it down, and then setting it up again (okay, call me a perfectionist) and occasionally find myself giving helpful advice and supporting 9 year olds as they navigate the world of making and breaking friendships.

The truth is, I don't think there is such thing as being and expert teacher. Sure, those with experience have more tricks of the trade and can handle situations with a little more ease, but at the end of the day - teaching is constantly evolving.  There are new curriculums, and new schools of knowledge and yes, new kids. And to be clear, there is NEVER a dull moment.

I was once told that after my third year, things would continuously get easier (by the way, I can't wait!). So here it is... My not-so-official list of advice for first, second and third year teachers.

1. Find yourself a mentor AT YOUR SCHOOL. A teacher, a principal, an Educational Assistant, whoever! This is especially important in your first year. I was lucky enough to find myself in a school with many mentors, who have since become my friends. Your mentor is there to show you the ropes, give you advice, and listen to the countless problems you are going to encounter. But they are also someone you can go to for a good cry, and eventually, they just may cry to you too... because again, there is not such thing as an expert teacher.

2. Ask lots of questions. Remember in school when your teacher told you there was no such thing as a stupid question? Well, they were wrong. But ask them anyways. When in doubt, ask. When something is new, ask. When you're just not sure what the hell you're doing, ask. You'll not only look better for doing so, but your questions will often bring up learning opportunities that you wouldn't have had otherwise.

3. Relationships are EVERYTHING. I'm not kidding. Kids will not learn from someone they do not respect and from someone they think does not respect them. Listen to their problems, talk about their weekends and their parents, siblings, teddy bears, etc. and you will notice a huge difference in how they learn. Give them the opportunity to get to know you (and give parents this opportunity, as well). That way, when you do have those moments where you need to be strict and harsh, they know that you care and that you are just trying to help. (Also read Kids These Days by Jody Carington).
 3 a) consider your students' parents as a part of your "team". You're all in this for the same reason: the kids. Support them, let them support you and keep communication open and honest. Trust me, it makes a world of a difference.

4. Remember that there is no such thing as a bad kid or a bad class. I know a lot of teachers that would laugh at this one. Or friends and family that would say "but remember that one kid who ________". But hear me out. Kids aren't "bad", but they can be difficult. This year, a particularly challenging one for me, a friend told me something her mom told her when she became a teacher: "you always love the one who needs it the most at that time" - and this could not be truer. Remind yourself that the difficult student, or parent, or class is just an opportunity to grow.

5. Expect the unexpected. In three years of teaching, I have experienced students with severe behaviour. I have gone through a family emergency, and led students through a school-wide emergency. I have learned (or am learning) to teach remotely with very little notice and have had students with countless injuries, illnesses and other serious setbacks. How did I survive, you ask? You just do. You lean on your staff when you need them, and they lean on you when they need you. It's give and take (and give and take and give and take, etc.).

6. Remember that not everyone will like you. Students, teachers, staff alike. Just like out in the real world, you can't make everyone like you. It's just a fact. Be respectful, be kind, but also stand up for yourself. Chances are, for every person who doesn't like you, there are at least 3 who do. So chin up, you're killing it.

7. Prioritize. hah. This one is the hardest because on any given day, at least 5 people will ask you to do something that needs to be done immediately. Attendance, marking, parent emails, clubs - you name it. It's all about figuring out what actually NEEDS to be done immediately, and what can take the back burner.

8. Work/Life Balance - I still haven't fully figured this out. Every time I think I've figured it out, something pops up either at home or at school. I guess what I'm trying to say is make time for YOU. Make time for your friends, and make time for your family. I know, easier said than done... But burnout is real, especially in the early days. And without social interactions, it will happen. Be kind to yourself, and take care of yourself. Plain and Simple.

9. Exercise! I don't care if it's a walk around the block, a heavy weight lifting session or yoga... Move, even when you're tired. I don't know why this helps so much, but I know that as soon as I added exercise into my daily routine, I became a way better and more patient teacher. No lie.

10. Take your lunch break whenever you can't. Because there will be days that you can't, and those days will suck. Spend time with your colleagues in the staff room, even if it's for 10-15 minutes. Or go for a short walk. GET OUT OF YOUR CLASSROOM. It makes a huge difference, especially if you had a particularly rough morning.

Bonus: You're replaceable. The first time my admin said this to me, I wanted to cry. Me? Replaceable? Ouch. But what they meant was that there is always someone who can step in when you can't anymore. The kids are still going to be taken care of, whether or not you are there. They are going to learn, whether or not you are there. It may not get done in your way, but it'll get done. So take a sick day if you're sick, and take a personal day if you want/need one - and don't check your e-mail when you're off (cough, hypocrite). The kids will be okay without you.

I'm sure there are a million more things that I could add to this list, because let's face it, teaching is a hard job. It's exhausting, but I am also convinced it is one of the most rewarding careers you can choose. Find your passion, show up every day and do your best (the same advice you would want for your students). Love your job. Love your colleagues. It helps.

Sincerely,

Mme Allie

I'm 27 and I am immunocompromised.

So what does that mean exactly?

Immunocompromised, in my case, means that I am taking a medication that suppresses my immune system so that it no longer fights against itself - and I have been since I was 15 years old. In other words, it means that my body has a more difficult time fighting off infections and yes, virus', than the average person. 

No, I am not a senior. And no, if you looked at me you wouldn't know I am "sick", but that is the reality of being a young adult living with any sort of disease. I think what is most frustrating about this whole situation is that while yes, seniors are at a higher risk, so are so many others who look perfectly fine on the outside. Which means we need to be cautious. 

I have to admit, a week ago, I didn't think this whole Covid-19 pandemic was as serious as it is, but, to protect myself and those around me, I did stop going to grocery stores, and any other public spaces - i even called in sick to my job as a teacher regardless of the fact that classes were cancelled for students. I've practiced social distancing, and only interacted in person with a very small group of people who are/were symptom free. But the truth is, I'm probably going to be, if not already, infected by the virus - like many of you. It's everywhere, and at this point, it's inevitable. 

I guess the reason I started to write this blog is because I'm scared. The world is a terrifying place right now, and there is so much misinformation circling because everyone else is worried, too. But the people who are disinfecting every time they go to a store to deliver me food (and wine ;)) and the people who are explaining what immunocompromised means to their family and friends who may not have had an experience with it before are the people keeping me alive. Literally.

Every day seems to be an emotional roller coaster: where I wake up feeling that everything is going to be okay, and go to bed wondering how on earth I am going to get through this. My mental health is taking a toll despite the daily at-home yoga and workouts I have incorporated. Being told I cannot spend time with my sister (my best friend) because she is risking her life as a nurse, is heartbreaking. Standing 3 meters away from any dog owner I pass while walking my own, is heartbreaking. Wondering if I am going to be able to see any of my friends, or my boyfriend when he gets back from work, is heartbreaking.

I don't really know the point of writing this, because it doesn't really change anything, but it helped to get it all out there. Thanks for reading if you did :)

 

Milestones, and such.

Note: this blog has been in the making for over a month. Life gets busy, ideas get mixed around and perceptions change. It's not my best work, but something I feel needed to be said.

 At our somewhat regular coffee date, my best friends from university and I got into a rabbit-hole of a conversation about societal milestones. While we agreed that they're a huge part of the way our society defines success, I explained that in the grand scheme of things, they really don't mean much.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm guilty of "milestoning" my life, too. I had a plan growing up: married by 23, kids by 25 and a lovely established family, living in a house "we" own (whoever we was supposed to be at that time), by 30.  Yep, by 30 everything would be all figured out... or so I thought. Flash forward to now: 27, living back at home and desperately trying to save for a small condo to call my own, while paying off an insane amount of student debt. I think the problem is, in my own experience, that is, is that we forget to account for the unexpected. We don't consider that school might take us an extra year, or relationships don't always work out how we think they will. We lose sight of the fact that life happens, and it happens a hell of a lot faster than we ever expect it to. We also place so much importance on specific 'milestones' and forget to appreciate others. Let me explain.  For me, I had always placed so much importance on growing up and building a family (I came from a relatively young family, and just figured that that was the path I would take too) and while I hate to admit it, I had a really hard time when my closest friends started to get married and having kids. I had placed so much importance on one specific set of milestones (family-life) that I forgot to appreciate that my life was, in fact progressing - just in different ways.

I was working towards goals that I never even knew I had. I was raising an incredible amount of money for charities, establishing my dream career (a career I didn't even know I wanted until I was in university) and really figuring out who I wanted to be. It took me a long time to see that there are different paths in life and if I'm being honest, I still have days where I wonder what the eff I'm doing. It's all about a mindset shift, I think, and this is where things get harder to explain. It's about appreciating what the people around you are experiencing, while not forgetting to live your life, in your way. I think that it's also about setting goals, but not being discouraged when things don't work out exactly the way you think they will, being honest with yourself and appreciating all the things you ARE doing and accomplishing and being.

The thing about milestones is that we always think that once we hit them that life will figure itself out.  We place so much importance on reaching certain point that we forget to recognize the journey. We need to stop saying things like "when I hit my goal weight, I'll be happy", "once the wedding comes, we won't be so stressed", "when I'm done university, I'll have it all figured out" and start appreciating everything that we are achieving while getting to those points (or not getting to those points). Life is hectic and unpredictable, but that's kind of the beauty in it all and while milestones provide us with guidance and can help some of us realize our ambitions and reams, they aren't the end all be all of life.

Why/how I started a Bullet Journal

It's been almost a year since I last published a blog... Note: published is the key word. I write somewhat frequently, and then I delete. Or I write and then it sits in drafts for months and months as I contemplate new ways to articulate the many things going on in my brain.  I guess that was the initial reason i started my bullet journal: a confined, organized place to keep all my not-so-concise and not-so-organized thoughts together.

At about this time last year, my sister introduced me to what would soon become an obsession: Bullet Journaling. Now, before I get into it, let me just remind everyone how very unartistic I am... which made my hesitant to start - as a perfectionist, I can't handle the idea of doing something not-so-perfectly. I started off with a bang! I wanted a page for everything I could think of - and maybe, just maybe - that's what led to me 'forgetting' my bullet journal altogether. (Well that and life gets busy... you know how it is). Truth is, I went strong through the summer while I had time off, and then, when reality hit in September, the pages began to dwindle. 

Lucky for me, I met a new teaching friend at work, who is slightly more organized (read: extremely more organized) than I am - who just so happened to carry her bujo everywhere. I was re-inspired! And I am officially back on the wagon.

The benefits of bullet journal (according to Allie)
- one space for EVERYTHING: not sure where to throw that grocery list? Bullet journal. Weekly calendar? Bullet journal. Questions to ask your DR? Bullet journal. You get the idea...
- self-care: as much (or as little) 'alone time' as you allow yourself. For me, it's an hour a week of me time.
- artistic outlet for the non-artist: its somewhere to draw, to colour, to write, etc. where no one can judge you. 
- productive: i always carry my bujo with me. That way, anytime I have a minute of downtown, or something to update, it's there and ready. 
- paper is always better: come on... phone calendars are so 2010. But in all seriousness, writing stuff down is therapeutic. And it sticks in your brain longer (teacher stuff, am I right?)... plus, you can't smash the screen of a notebook.

The uncertainty of living with an auto-immune disease..

Picture this: it's Thursday night and your left hip is stiff, sore and a little swollen. You think to yourself "hey, this is normal, you've been really active, arthritis gets sore" and you move along with your life. Flash forward a couple hours, its 11pm and you're getting ready for bed. That little pain you felt earlier? It's getting worse by what seems like the minute. You're having troubles with the stairs, walking, hell, even laying on the couch is painful. You take something for the pain, and drift in and out of sleep for the night - waking up sore, readjusting and rolling back over to sleep.

You wake up Friday morning and start packing for camping, but subconsciously know that you really shouldn't go if you're feeling like this. You're sore, lethargic (but you tell yourself its from the lack of sleep) and move on with your day. It's an hour before you're supposed to leave, and you now know that its not a good idea to leave town. You lay on the couch, cancel your plans and contemplate what to do next. You don't want to go to the hospital, especially this early, because every time you do it doesn't really get you anywhere. You usually spend hours in the emergency room just to go home with pain killers and advice to 'follow-up with your doctor this coming week". 

Eventually though, the pain gets unbearable. You go to the hospital and tell them the whole story "My name is Allie Roy, I am 25 years old and I have an auto-immune disease called Behcets. I am on immune suppressant medications and am experiencing what I think is a 'flare-up' of my disease". You try to read the triage nurses expression.. Is she taking me seriously? 

Flash forward about half an hour, and they call you back in to see the doctor. This is terrifying. Half an hour? Must be serious - they never call you back that quick. You literally hobble along, trying to keep up to the nurse, and change into a gown and crawl under a heated hospital blanket (the best part, really). The doctor comes in a while later and explains the plan of action: big dose of advil/tylenol, calling the specialist, joint mobility test and taking blood samples to check that everything is okay on the inside- oh great, you think to yourself - your blood tests always come back normal.. they're going to send you home without any answers.

Time flies when you're having fun and next thing you know the doctor comes back in with some updates. Your inflammatory markers are up, your joint mobility is weak and the specialist suggests steroids and pain killers to get you through. You start crying... why? Who knows. Are you finally happy that someone is taking you seriously? Is the pain so unbearable that it draws tears? Does the word 'steroid' still make you cringe thinking back to the terrible side-effects they left on you years ago?

This was my experience these last couple days. I feel so thankful that this was a positive visit to the emergency room, because they aren't always. In the last ten years, since the onset of my symptoms I have learned that when you are faced with something that isn't black and white, something where answers are not always readily available - you never really know how the visits will go. You hold off getting treatment for fear that no one will believe you, that no one will validate your pain. This is scary. And sad. And nearly impossible to understand. 

 The truth is, I don't know why I'm writing this. It's not for sympathy, it's not for attention. It's to finally put into words the frustration and the uncertainty I feel every time there is an ounce of pain or at the first sign of weakness in my immune system. I have been looking, begging for something to write about these last couple weeks and this, this just came so naturally. It's nothing special, not descriptive or well-written, but its experience and its important. 

How and why I started 5AM workouts..

People often ask me how I workout in the morning, saying things like "I am SO not a morning person" or "I have always hated mornings"... and truth is, neither am I..  and, well, so have I. But I am even more so not a night person. Yes, that's exactly what it sounds like - I regularly refer to myself as a "mid-morning to mid-afternoon" person. Is that even a thing?

The truth in the matter is, I officially started my career as a full-time teacher this year. While I knew teaching wasn't a walk in the park, what I thought would be a day filled with second grade hugs and simple addition and subtraction problems turned into the most stressful (and rewarding!!) experience of my life. By the end of September I was exhausted. And by exhausted, I mean I was regularly in bed by 8 pm (after working until 5:30-6pm), to get up for 6:30 am. I was consistently cranky and quite often on edge which was directly reflected into both my home and work life. I was turning down social engagements and often claiming to be "too tired" to go to the gym after work or complained that I didn't have time. During the first long weekend of the school year - Thanksgiving weekend, I decided to look at ways that I could increase my energy and productivity. The more I looked into what made me happy, the easier it was to make changes. In the past, my sources of happiness were: spending time with my loved ones AND the gym.

So I found a solution: I needed to spend more time with family, friends and my boyfriend... As well as find time to be active and take care of myself physically. I decided that weekend that I would schedule at least one social engagement a week (I know, it doesn't sound like much - but it was HARD) and I would get up before work to go to the gym at least three of the five weekdays.

Much to my dismay, the Tuesday following the long weekend I actually woke up at 5am and went to the gym... and continued to do so (almost) daily. I almost immediately saw the benefits: I was happy when I got to work (conveniently earlier than if I continuously pressed snooze as I had the weeks prior), had far more patience with my students, and paid more attention to what I was eating and how much water I was drinking. After all, what was the point of 5am workouts if you undo them all with bad choices later on?

I also had more time to myself. I get to work with 45-60 minutes of alone time before the students come in. This gives me time to eat breakfast, drink coffee and get a ton of work done, generally before anyone else even enters the building. I could get home from work and not feel guilty about not working out, and actually have time to hangout and watch TV - or call up a friend for coffee.

It has now been over 7 months of (mostly) consistently getting up early to workout - and I can't imagine how I did it any other way before. I still find it nearly impossible to get out of bed for those 5AMs, but when I do - it feels amazing!

An added bonus? You can't beat the 5AM crew at the gym. No one chooses to workout at the crack of dawn unless they're serious - so while people will still shoot you a friendly smile, everyone is focused on their own workouts. It's quiet, less busy and overall more efficient to get in and out of the gym!

The truth is, there is no better way to turn your mood around than a good, hard workout. And what better way to setup your day than to start with something that makes you happy. 

The ugly truth about disordered eating...

What is disordered eating? Well, a quick google search comes up with "Disordered eating describes a variety of abnormal eating behaviors that, by themselves, do not warrant diagnosis of an eating disorder. Disordered eating includes behaviors that are common features of eating disorders, such as: Chronic restrained eating. Compulsive eating. Binge eating, with associated loss of control."

But the truth is, disordered eating is a mentally and physically exhausting way of looking at what goes in (and sorry, out) of your body at any given time. So why am I writing about this? Well, because I have wanted to for months, as this is something I am still struggling with - but just couldn't find the courage, or fight the embarrassment. 

Almost everyone that knows me knows that I have lost significant amount of weight over the last 5 or so years. For the most part, this has been done in a healthy way - eating right, exercising, etc. This is something I am tremendously proud of, and share it with anyone and everyone I meet. I do this, because not only does it motivate me to keep going, but I also hope to inspire others with my story. What most people don't know, actually there are only a handful of people who do know, is that in the past year I have suffered from disordered eating. While I don't have any of the physical signs - my battle has been truly mental. 

This is not easy for me to admit, and I can remember the denial I felt the first time a professional used those words to describe my habits. Hell, I didn't even know why I was there... I booked the appointment after a family member voiced some concerns. You see, I like to think that my lifestyle changes have all been as healthy as can be, and for the better. But, I, like many other people, analyze every single thing that I put into my mouth. I can generally accurately estimate the amount of calories in a single food or drink (I don't even count calories!!) and plan out my day to the closest macros. I know what some of you are thinking: why is that a bad thing - if it helps you stay on track ? ... and that's how I thought too, or still think, most days. 

The truth is, I am slowly learning that it is not normal to feel guilty about what you eat and drink. It is not normal to beat yourself up over one fry or a milkshake every once and a while. It is not normal to be anxious to go out with your friends because you're afraid of what they will think of what you order (my friends never openly judged me, this was a scenario I made up in my head - also, if your friends judge you on your burger, or your full-fat latte, get new friends, that's not okay). Just because these things are not normal, does not mean they're not real feelings and strong ones, at that. 

The truth is, I am still following a nutrition plan. And is that a problem? Not in the slightest. The problem is not allowing myself the self-compassion and forgiveness when I slip-up. This is something I am constantly working at. I am lucky to have the support of some great friends, who know just how much this effects my daily life - my daily thinking pattern. 

So why am I writing this now? Because over the holidays, for the first time in a while, these feelings came back full swing. I was out of my routine, both with work-outs and food, and felt terrible about myself. I had this idea in my head that I had gained copious amounts of weight, and that I was undoing all my progress thus far. I imagined that all my clothes were suddenly too tight and that everyone around me was judging every single thing I ate/drank. Well, let me tell you, this was so far from the truth... Honestly, because I have been maintaining this lifestyle for so long, I actually only gained one pound (not the ten I had imagined) which was quickly lost as soon as my re-found my routine. I will. hopefully, once again, be saying goodbye to the scale this year - however, right now, I am still learning how to be nice to myself. 

This was extremely hard to write, and even harder to post. Of all the things I am proud of that I have done, this is something that still makes me feel embarrassed/ashamed to talk about. And I know it shouldn't, but it does - and that's my reality. Right now, I am truly focusing on the idea that overall balance, an the ability to forgive slip-ups, are my personal priorities.

*Please note: eating disorders/disordered eating are mental health concerns and should be addressed by a professional to avoid further harm to your body/mind. Please seek professional help if any of this sounds too familiar - you won't regret it. 

the final countdown..

I've said it once, and I'll say it again - the week leading up to the Enbridge Ride to Conquer Cancer presented by Evraz is always an interesting one for me. The truth is, no matter how many times I've done the ride now (going on 4!), plus the countless training rides following the same route, there are always fears, always questions of whether or not I am physically capable of completing it. And of course, there are feelings of loss and sadness for those I am riding in honour of... and lastly, the excitement of joining thousands of other people in this incredibly well-organised weekend. It's pretty safe to say that it's an emotional roller coaster. Every. Single. Year.

The truth is, the ride has given my life so much more meaning that I could have ever thought possible. This might be cliché, and you may not think that the fundraising efforts have that great of an effect on the battle against cancer: but to me, its so much more than that. Four years ago, I remember sitting at the University on one of my long breaks between classes wondering to myself if I would ever be able to complete this ride. I went back and fourth: my inner angel and devil providing their own insight on whether or not to sign up, and, finally (with the help of some encouragement): I did it. I immediately thought to myself "what did I get myself into?" - and that's where it all started. Little did I know that four years later I would be so invested in something that had previously worried me so much. Obviously I still question my ability to complete the ride (yes, even after riding it three times without fail), but I never could have imagined how much this weekend would mean to me every year.

So what does the ride mean to me now?

It's something for me to be excited about. It's a weekend that brings up raw emotions and thoughts of people I have lost, the world has lost. It's a huge group of unbelievably supportive individuals who come together to make a whole, with a common goal for good. It's incredibly inspiring and at the same time devastatingly heart breaking all at the same time. It's something positive for me to pour my energy into: whether its through fundraising, training or trying to convince others to do it - it takes up time and leaves me feeling happy and strong. It's a chance for me to share my story, and to learn about the stories of those around me. It's a chance to feel apart of something, and apart of something big.

So to everyone who has been a part of the journey so far, or who plan to be in the future... I cannot thank you enough. Your support = my motivation.

And to anyone riding this weekend, I wish you the best of luck - and i hope that your experience is half as enriching as mine has been. See you there.

Year 1 - Starting line

Year 2 - Starting line

Year 3 - Somewhere along the route

PS, What's a post about a furnishing without a link to the donation page... ;)

http://www.conquercancer.ca/site/TR/Events/Alberta2017?px=3594558&pg=personal&fr_id=1592

Being honest.

I have goals.

Okay, so we all have goals. But I have goals that I get obsessed with. And not obsessed in a good way, but obsessed in a way that drives me to measure my progress every. single. day. which, if you have ever had fitness goals you'll know is not how it works. I also like numbers. I like concrete proof when i've reached my goals (or when I haven't) - and I take this proof to heart.

Two months ago, with the advice of a fantastic and supportive trainer, I decided to lock my scale away. At first, it was terrifying.. And I am not going to lie, the first week was really hard! But, after that, it just became normal. I didn't wake up in the morning and step on the scale first thing. I didn't weight myself getting in (or out) of the shower and I didn't weigh myself after going to the washroom - just to see the difference (don't pretend you've never done this - its a real thing, I think?). Translated: I had 0 idea if I was gaining or losing those pesky couple of pounds that seem to fluctuate day to day, and in all honesty, it felt great! I know that I need physical activity, and I (generally) know what I need nutritionally, so I carried on with my normal, scale-free life.

This week, however, I decided to reconsider my diet and work with that same trainer to create a new nutrition plan (because if you want something new, you need to do something new!). She asked for photos, measurements and wait for it... my weight. Damn. Almost two months I hadn't weighed myself, and suddenly, all the feelings of hitting the scale came spiralling back to me. I'm not going to lie, it took me about half an hour to convince myself to do it - putting it off as long as I could by doing my measurements and pictures first, and then guess what? I climbed up on a stool and took my scale down from the highest shelf in my bathroom, and stepped on it. I read the numbers and almost cried, it was my worst nightmare... I had gained 3 pounds!!! I know what you're thinking: 3 pounds really isn't that much.. But, to me, it was. And then, something crazy (or maybe rational) happened inside my brain. I decided to pull out my last set of measurements and compare them to the ones I had just taken, and saw the difference: I have lost centimetres in almost every single one of my measurement areas.

This next part is dedicated to every single person who has ever told me (or anyone, really) that the scale doesn't matter and that it isn't always and accurate tool for measuring success - call it your "I told you so" moment. I have decided to put the scale back away, indefinitely. And in the off chance I need to use it for one reason or another (similar situation, doctor's appointment, even curiosity) I'll look back at this experience and remember - weight is just a number.

Why teach.

Ever since I decided to become a teacher, I have been asked the same questions over and over – and other than the infamous “what grade do you want to teach”, the question of “why teach” is by far the most common. The truth is, I didn’t always want to be a teacher. Actually, quite the opposite. Growing up when everyone kept telling me that teaching was for me, I would laugh. You see, I was never a great student. I struggled with mental and physical health problems, not to mention lacked any ounce of self-esteem, so much so that school became a nightmare for me. I couldn’t even imagine the idea of spending the rest of my lives within the walls of a school.

It wasn’t until I was in university that I started to seriously consider my career options. Like a lot of other high school students, I was strongly encouraged (read: forced) to go to post-secondary straight after graduation. And like most, I didn’t really know what I wanted to do – or who I was. One thing that I was sure, and had always known was that I wanted to change to world.

Yea, I know, Cliché. But its really not. I went from wanting to be a child psychologist, to a nurse, to taking a year off and being unbelievable confused. It wasn’t until I was sitting at my desk; in my office job looking through university websites that started to remember all the times people had told me I should be a teacher. From that moment on it clicked, and everything I did was working towards becoming a teacher, working towards who I am now. And there was no turning back.

In your last year of university, it’s easy to get caught up in the assignments and lose sight of what you’re working towards. It’s easy to start stressing about resumes and job interviews and the future: but all it takes is one day, one reminder, to bring it all back. For me, that was today.

Today, I had the opportunity to take part in the Werklund School of Education Youth Forum as a facilitator. The event was an outlet for the kids to talk about the issues, challenges and problems facing today’s youth and then come up with strategies and action plans for them to make changes regarding these issues in their own schools. To say the dialogue blew me away is an understatement. These kids, both junior and senior high school age shared so much insight on what they want to change about the daily struggles that face themselves and their peers. They recognized the problems that face their generation and came up with realistic solutions to bring back to their schools. Topics ranged from LGBTQ issues, to youth poverty, personal and group identity and everything in between. What was so special about today was that the emphasis was on the voice of the youth. While teachers, student teachers and other community members were present and active in conversations, the youth lead the discussions and came up with solutions to some of the world’ biggest problems. It was truly incredible.

I think that we can all learn a lot from these (and all) kids. We need to realize that we may see their issues from our own perspectives, but we will never really understand them until we take the time to listen. These youth spoke up for what they believe in. They were given a voice and were pushed to take that voice and make change. They were taught that their opinions matter and that we, as adults, are on their side and want to help them succeed, not only academically, but also in all aspects of their lives. These youth are capable of anything, and as teachers it is our responsibility to push them to be the best that they can be.

Today reminded me of that my goal is to make sure students have the opportunity, and the self confidence to speak up, stand up and be heard. 

Choosing happiness

**Disclaimer: this post is in no way meant to take away from the seriousness of mental health issues. I understand that solely choosing happiness is not always possible and that the need for professional intervention is very real and very possible.

I definitely believe that as human beings we have the capacity to choose happiness. So what does choosing to be happy look like? Is it all rainbows and butterflies? Can we do whatever we want, whenever we want? The simple answer: no. 

Life is still life. There are always going to be people you don't like, and get this: people that don't like you - something I'm still working on understanding. No matter how hard you try, there is no way that you are always going to make everyone happy... So why not work on keeping the one person you can count on happy : YOU!

When you find something that makes you truly happy, you do it. 

When you find someone who makes you truly happy, you spend time with them. It's really that simple. 

Most of us go through our lives doing and saying what we think people want to see and hear. We are so afraid to show who we really are because being judged is such a real part of life. But if you think about it, you're really the only person that can make sure that you're happy. While there could be people in your life that make you happy, they do not determine your overall happiness - or they shouldn't. Happiness cannot come from one sole aspect of your life, for example your spouse, significant other, etc. While its crucial to surround yourself with supportive people and people that keep you up, a balance is just as important.

So how did I find happiness? Well it just sort of happened. I know, I know, you want some clear cut plan like "10 steps to take to become a happier person" - but that's not how it works.

I started doing things for me. I go to the gym when I want to. I eat healthy when I want to - and I have junk food when I want to (within moderation, of course). I tell people what I want and I tell them what I don't - again this is a work in progress. I (try to) say no to doing things I don't want to do by being honest, not making up excuses. I take time for myself, and I take time to spend with the people I love. I plan (a lot), but I also steer off the plan and try to be spontaneous. I live in the now, not the past. Am I perfect at any of these things? Definitely not. Am I consistently working towards making my self happy? Absolutely. 

Being happy (most of the time) gives you a whole new energy - and not only on the inside. People will notice, and as corny as it sounds - they'll gravitate towards you. There's a reason 'killing people with kindness' exists, because people generally mimic the attitudes and behaviours that  surround them. Choosing to smile and move on when things are tough shows strength. It lifts a weight off your shoulder. And as you choose to do more things that make you happy or the be with the people who make you happy - it becomes easier and easier to find your path. You'll make likeminded friends and you'll start living your life differently. Passions will become more clear, and goals will seem more attainable. 

Anyone can be happy. Choose happiness.

10 things I wish I had known before losing 50lbs.

1. Confidence isn't automatic, it takes work.
This one was HUGE. I thought I would start losing weight and suddenly be super confident in all aspects of my life - but that was really inaccurate. Yes, I started to feel more confident in my body, but there are still times (lots of them) where I look in the mirror and am not happy. It doesn't matter how far you've come, sometimes you're still going to look 'fat' in everything you own.

2. Sometimes you're a little too confident.
I love progress pictures. I love my own, and I love seeing other peoples. I also love to share when I hit new goals or start seeing changes in my muscle definition. Sometimes this comes off as showy.. But hey, the way I see it - you earned it!

3. Your 'people' aren't always going to be supportive.
This one sucks. The people you consider to be closest to you don't always understand why you turn down that piece of cake or why you occasionally have to say 'no' to going out for beer and nachos and head to the gym instead. Truth is, they'll probably never get it... But that doesn't mean you can't still be friends. Choices & moderation - don't completely cut them out (unless of course they're toxic to life as a whole).

4. You'll find new 'people'.
This doesn't mean you replace your old friends and family, but chances are if you're hitting up fitness classes a few times a week or going to the same gym continuously, your friendships will shift slightly. You'll make new friends, or become closer with people you share interests with. You'll build a support system.

5. Consistency isn't always key.
It's pretty natural to want to stick with something when the results are there, but sometimes this can sabotage you. A lot of weight loss journeys hit a 'plateau' at some point or another, and this is usually a sign to bring something new into your routine. For example, the start of my journey was based off counting calories, but now I am pretty firmly against that philosophy yet still yielding results. Sometimes one small tweak is all you need.

6. People will continually ask for your advice, and then ignore it.
If you're like me, you will get excited each time someone asks you for your advice. You're in no way an expert, but suddenly you feel like one and can't wait to share how you saw results. And then boom, a day, or a week passes and they ignored everything you suggested to them : ouch. All you can do is continue to give your advice and hope that at least once, it will stick and you'll help someone feel as good as you do.

7. Buying a new wardrobe sounds like a lot more fun than it is.
This one goes back with #1 - but its so big that I figured it should have its own explanation. That new body of yours - yea, not so easy to dress. Sometimes you'll try something on and be blown away that you've come this far, but sometimes you'll try something on that will make you completely forget your progress. Also, it's way more expensive to build a whole new wardrobe than you'd anticipate.

8. There will always be an abundance of (good AND bad) advice out there.
It seems like there is some 'new' diet tip out each week - calorie counting, macro counting, low carb diets, high protein diets, replace blank with blank, etc. Do your research. Use resources you can trust (backed up by evidence) and find something that works for you. Different nutrition is good for different results and one plan that someone follows isn't necessarily the best one for you.

9. Weight loss isn't constant.
Life happens. Sometimes, you gain ten pounds during finals week... Or you have three birthday parties in one weekend and your results take a turn for the worst. These things happen. What's important is to make sure that you don't spiral out of control. Hold yourself accountable and don't beat yourself up - a lot of the time these extra few pounds will come off quickly if you catch them right way.

10. Your life will change.
Physical changes can (and probably will) affect you emotionally too. Your progress becomes yet another part of your identity and sometimes, if you're like me, you'll have no idea how you lived your life any differently before. Overall, it's amazing!

Three and a half years and 48 lbs. difference.